


Gone Now

by henriettaholden



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Bloodplay, Deathfic, F/M, Old Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-16
Updated: 2011-08-16
Packaged: 2017-10-22 16:36:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/240146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/henriettaholden/pseuds/henriettaholden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Many, many years after they had found each other again, it was now time to part.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gone Now

**Gone Now**

Her wrinkled skin had become almost translucent in the years of living she thought she'd never have. Slayer healing power had nothing against hereditary brain tumours.

Spike wished he knew better, learned more, could cure all. But it wouldn't help. Spike was going to loose the last of the Summers women.

The cancer had her in its clutches and she was dying. Finally. Long past her due date. Buffy knew that. Even with thousands of Slayers culling the demonic forces borne of The First, she knew she'd lived longer than any Slayer in history.

Probably cause she had blood of an immortal vampire pumping through her system every time she got it in her to play a game with Spike.

He who never aged. Still devastatingly handsome. A little pudgy though. As she got older, he stopped working out so much.

If she could not care about her saggy breasts, he wasn't going to do crunches, he rationalised. He'd been 100% eager to pay for a chest lift, but she rejected the idea of going under the knife with a fist to his nose.

Ahh, the old days. They had fought like randy beavers for almost the entirety of their relationship. Only really bothered the neighbours and the people at the local hospital, who thought Buffy was in an abusive relationship. Rough Spike got her hot. Or at least, it used to. Before she went through menopause.

And wasn't that an experience for Spike. He vaguely remembered his mother's unusualness in the late years of her life but had previously put that down to effect from the consumption.

Now, seeing his beautiful Buffy get all hot flashes, have a stinted flow of his favourite beverage and become more snarky than usual (and less horny), he knew that his knowledge of humans had been so stunted. He’d forgotten all the little bits. The years he’d spent with Buffy had reminded him about clipping toenails, sniffling noses, and farting. During sex. He could still make her wizened cheeks blush with that doozy.

And now, just under a decade of catching up with his first century, she was still willing to take him in her arms and love him with all her heart. It amazed and saddened him to no ends. To know their time was running short. Shorter than it should. She should be dying in her sleep just after the Queen sent her a telegram congratulating her long time on earth.

He ran her hands through her hair, before jumping off the bed and making sure the windows of their London bedroom was secure so the cold wouldn’t touch her tender bones before climbing back into their bed. They had long ago permanently moved into their London townhouse home, with the still alive Dawn and a handful of the Slayers who they loved and trained as if the girls were their own.

Dawn had passed a little over thirty years ago. Killed in the line of duty. Her Slayer had perished shortly after.

And now, here was Buffy drifting out of life in his arms. She had long ago expressed her wish of her deathbed. And there was no way Spike was prepared to do it. He couldn’t let her ago.

“It’s time.”

Not the words he ever wanted to hear.

She squeezed her fragile body against his. She looked up at him, eyes glassy and already half out of this realm. She had to return to Heaven now.

The past few months, Spike felt like he was almost dealing with Drusilla again. Crazy in the mood swings and memories that consumed Buffy, she’d lashed out with the remaining specks of strength she had stored in her sorry, old body.

Omnipotent love for her had him comply with her wishes and will. He carefully slid his heavily lubricated penis into her for the last time. A soft sigh escaped her lips, her hands reaching up to hold his ageless face to whisper the words of love that forever filled his heart to the brim.

“I love you so much, Buffy.” He choked out. Her hands holding his head brought him down to the last strong section of her body. That perfect junction that always invited Spike to sup. Invited him to love.

Gently, ever so gently, his fangs found their way nudging through her last layers of skin and into her throbbing vessel. Her eyelids fluttered shut. He’d never see her eyes full of life again. She gently climaxed and he sucked.

The blood stunted in strength from the life-sucking tumour felt almost bitter in his mouth. He almost spat it out. But he couldn’t do that. He promised.

Buffy limbs grew slack, lolling against the old bed covers that had seen all the strength of their love.

She was almost gone now.

Spike made himself come, hating that he had to think of the beautiful, young Buffy to make it happen. He couldn’t stand the thought of having a hard on when the most perfect thing in his life died in his arms and on his fangs.

Spike swallowed. Pulled and sucked. One more, and she’d be gone. He swallowed.

His words blurred together against her skin. His tears soaked the terrible long eyelashes that had looked so perfect and pretty over all the years they had been together while Buffy’s hair had dropped off as age wearied her.

He pulled the blood from her body with a horrified sob.

Gone now. She was gone.

Spike sucked at the blood lingering on the lifeless body.

Waste not, want not and all that rot.

A heartbroken sob and he pulled out of her body.

He desperately wished he believed in reincarnation.

Buffy was dead. Gone now. Never coming back. Not this time. Third time’s a charm.

Spike covered her body with their marital bed covers, but not before a last kiss to her forehead. She was cold. That’s what happens when you suck the blood out of someone.

Time to call Angel. And the kids.

His girls. His adopted slayer children.

They wouldn’t give him the comfort he needed.

Angel first. Spend a century or two with the git, mourning.

After whispering broken words, he closed the bedroom door behind him and made way to the phone.

“Goodbye, Buffy.”  


  


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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

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**Author's Note:**

>  _Well this came out of nowhere. Wasn't planning on writing something new. I've been on holidays and thinking about my future. I'm going on hiatus for a while once studies start up again because it's my last year of my degree. I might try to finish one WIP before then but I highly doubt it. I've been looking over Magic Fingers and I'm going to rewrite parts so it is cohesive. I was going to do that tonight but this story sort of came pouring out instead. Thanks for your support throughout the last year guys._  
> 
> 
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> 
> Originally posted to Spuffy Realm on the January 04 2009.


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